The Stiles Experiment
by Brentinator
Summary: After the Nogitsune, several doctors want to run future tests on Stiles that could take up to 5 years. After much consideration, Sheriff Stilinski agrees against Stiles' protests. However, when Scott doesn't even get to say goodbye to his best friend, he becomes wary of the doctors. Then he meets the fragments of his best friend, who doesn't remember him, and goes by Thomas.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, guys!**

 **After finishing my Descendants book, I knew I wanted to start on two new books, cause I thought I would be able to finish Alpha Dad before Halloween.**

 **I've had this planned for awhile, and I finally finished the chapter yesterday, and I'll be starting another Teen Wolf story titled Angel, very soon.**

 **If you have not seen or read any of the maze runner books/movies, then this may contain some spoilers, but it is a AU, so you won't need much.**

 **All credits to my big sister, SenseiGrace, for being my beta reader for this, love you so much, and please check her out on here as well as her Wattpad account by the same name for awesome stories.**

 **And now, on with the story!**

Sheriff Stilinski placed his hands in his palms, waiting for some sort of news about his son's wellbeing. More importantly, his apparent frontaltemporal dementia that he had developed because of the fox spirit that took over his body, and if it was even real or not.

After Scott, Lydia, Kira, and Maila defeated the nogistune, Stiles had fallen unconscious, and had been rushed to the ER with a concussion of unknown status and a rising fever.

That had been three hours ago, and despite being a Sheriff for years now, Noah was on his last nerve, and doing everything humanly possible to stay calm.

This whole werewolf thing was very hard to understand, but he knew it was only gonna get harder, even if he had only just started to kinda pick up on it when his own son was possessed.

Then he heard the door of the waiting area door open, to see a older doctor who was completely bald as well as skinny, wearing green scrubs.

"Stilinski?" He asked, looking up from the clipboard in his hand, to which Noah stood up, walking over to the doctor while slightly still freaked out about his son, was glad he was finally getting something. "My name is Dr. Christensen. I was placed in charge of your son's tests."

"How is he?"

The doctor smiled warmly, looking down at his clipboard for a couple seconds, before meeting back with the concerned father's eyesight.

"He'll be just fine. The fever will most likely linger around for a couple days, and the concussion should be gone within two weeks. Something that is very strange is that I was told he was diagnosed with frontaltemprol dementia. Is that correct?" The man questioned curiously.

"That is correct."

"Well, from your family history, you know that it's terminal as soon as you get the diagnosis, but in the case of your son-"

"Stiles. Everyone calls him Stiles." Noah interrupted

"In Stiles' case, it seems to have completely vanished, which is unheard of in the medical field. I'm the lead psychologist at my facility in Alaska, and we study neurological science every day, which had lead to huge advancements in the medical field, and I'd like to bring Stiles in to do longer and further tests."

"How long will he be kept there?" Noah questioned, getting a surprisingly normal vibe from him, but just wanting to finish so he could see his son.

"The longest we keep someone is for five years, and then you get them back."

"Can I think about it?" The Sheriff questioned, and the doctor nodded, handing him a business card with his number on it.

"Call me when you make come to a conclusion, and your son is now in room 211."

"Thank you, Dr. Christensen."

"You're welcome, Sheriff." The doctor smiled, before leaving the father to reunite with his son.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi guys! I'm finally back after a month!**

I was able to update a lot of things, and work on new things as well! Hope you enjoy!

And now, on with the story!

...

"Hey, Dad." Stiles smiled as he saw the door open to his room and the scent of his father's cologne filled the room, which had become a comforting scent to the teen after losing his mom.

He turned his head to the left where the sheriff had sat down before grabbing his son's hand, gently running his thumb slightly above the large bruise where the IV had been.

"You don't understand how relieved I am to see that you are finally back to normal." His father insisted, looking right into his brown eyes with his blue ones.

"Pops, I've never been normal. I'm just not dealing with a fox in my head." Stiles smirked, trying desperately to crack a joke. He knew something was off with his dad, as he had practically grown up seeing that somber look on his dad's face. He also had a sneaking suspicion that it was about him. The suspension only grew when his father didn't even try to crack a smile or corny response, like with the teen's other desperate attempts in the past.

"Look, Stiles. I don't know if you understand the seriousness of this, but I could've lost you to the supernatural, of all things. I already lost your mother, I'm sure as hell not gonna lose you too." His father's face hardened with his tone, another tell tale sign that something was off, and he was overwhelmed with the largest feeling of guilt when it hit him that it was most likely his, or rather, the Nogitsune's fault.

"I completely understand how serious this is. I'm the one who told you about this stuff. But if it was possessed me over Scott, Issac, Lydia, Kira, Maila and Derek, I don't care. I know how serious it is that both Aiden and Allison were killed. That both Boyd and Erica are dead, and more people are probably gonna die, but I'm gonna do my best on the sidelines while everyone else fights. It's that simple."

The room went into a dark silence, his father now letting go of his hand to run his through his hair, only causing the teenager to sigh, looking back into his dad's tried and sunken eyes.

"Sorry, Pops. I just-."

"No, it's OK, kiddo. I get it." His father insisted, standing up to leave. "I'm gonna go see when you can come home. Be right back." And with that, his father had left the room, closing the door behind him, leading the teenager to sigh, feeling the weight of guilt making his heart go down to his feet.

Then the door opened, revealing both Lydia and Scott, with relieved expressions on their faces, and Stiles didn't even have to guess to know that not only were they extremely distressed over Allison and Aiden, but finally relived that they weren't going to lose a third person. That became evident when Lydia hugged him so tightly, he wondered for a spilt second if she could cut off his air supply.

"Hey, guys." He smiled after Lydia had stopped crushing him, before asking, noticing that there was a large absence of pack members, slightly scaring him. "Where's everyone else?"

"At Deaton's office, sleeping off the stress and injuries of the past three days." Scott insisted, yawning shortly after, which lead the human to smile at the werewolf and banshee.

"Maybe you two should head home as well. If anyone should be stressed, it's both of you." Stiles insisted, as he knew that Scott had fought a large bulk of the fight against the Oni, the Nogitsune had kidnapped Lydia, and they had destroyed the Nogitsune with Kira and Maila, all while he could barley stand.

"Are you sure?" Scott asked, and Stiles knew it was cause of his strong, but sometimes annoying will to keep everyone and anyone safe. Even if it was at his own expense, and he also knew he was the same way.

"Positive. My dad's getting the discharge papers and my clothes now." He grinned widely, earning a laugh out of both the exhausted teens, earning two more bone crushing hugs and two very extended goodbyes, before the strawberry blonde left the room.

Scott, however, was being very persistent on staying with Stiles throughout the night, saying that he would need to be woken up so he didn't go into a coma from the concussion.

"Scott, get outta here." He smiled good naturedly with a laugh coming into play, something he hadn't done since that fall, which was depressing to think about. "In the small chance that my concussion causes me to go into a coma, I'll just remember that you were insisting that it would've happen, and realized I should've listened to you."

Stiles smiled happily when that convinced his best friend to go home and get some sleep that he so desperately needed almost as much as the human needed his, and then the door closed, leaving him alone with his thoughts, and when he had gone through the hell he had, he knew that this was going to be interesting to say the least before his dad got back to take him home.


	3. Chapter 3

Sheriff Stilinski sighed a week later, looking at Dr. Christensen's card, as well as trying to find information on his facility in Alaska when he heard the door swing open and a yell echoing through the house.

"Hey dad! I'm home!"

Even though he knew the research would benefit several others with the disease that killed his wife and almost took his son's life, he didn't know if he was prepared to lose Stiles for five years after just getting him back.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he saw Stiles walk into the dining room with a plate of Double Stuff Oreos and a tall glass of milk, so he covered his research with his elbows, closed the laptop and asked the question on his mind.

"Where did you find Oreos?"

"It doesn't matter, you can't eat them. Remember, we eat healthy." He insisted, popping one into his mouth.

"That's a extremely healthy after school snack, kiddo." His dad smirked sarcastically, reaching for one of them on the edge of the plate. However, his son was too fast for him as he moved the small plate out of his reach from the chair he was in, standing up.

"Yeah, well I'm almost 17 and don't have high cholesterol, so I can have these." The teen insisted, mouth full of the chocolate cookies.

"If you choke, then it doesn't matter what your cholesterol levels are."

Stiles rolled his eyes, downing the glass of milk before catching his eye on the papers. "What's that?" He questioned, still with Oreo in his mouth.

Not wanting to make his son suspicious, he replied with the answer you would give a seven year old.

"Adult stuff."

"Dad, I'll be a adult in a year and three months, therefore, I call it close enough." Stiles argued, grabbing for the laptop and opening it, whilst his dad protested.

"Stiles, don-"

"West Alaska Medical Institution?" Stiles asked, a slight whimper creeping into his voice after scanning the screen. "You think I need to be in a institution like Eichan House?"

"Stiles, it isn't what you think is." His dad started, standing up, but his son backed away, sadness turning to rage in a instant after placing the laptop back onto the table.

"No, I know exactly what it is! You think I'm going crazy like Mom did! Well, guess what?! I'm not Mom! I'm finally normal again, and you still think I'm absolutely crazy! You don't even believe me about Scott and the others, do you?!"

"Stiles, that is completely untrue. Yes, I believe you about the supernatural. I also know that the supernatural almost killed you! I can't lose you too." He insisted, tears forming in his eyes with thoughts of the past months flooding his mind while he started to slowly advance towards his son in order to calm him down, but Stiles wasn't having it as he continued to back towards the stairs.

"Stop treating me like a insane criminal! I'm not a basket case with a sob story, I'm your son! And yeah, people are dead cause of me getting possessed! Do you think that I wanted Aiden to die?! That I wanted Allison to die?!"

"Stiles-"

"Just leave me the hell alone!" The teen stormed up the stairs, the door loudly slamming closed a few moments later, causing his dad to wince, before sitting back down, staring at the card with the small phone number on it.

He rubbed his eyes after a few moments, feeling the stress of his job, his son, and the fact that money wasn't really coming in anymore finally wearing down on him.

He sighed, swallowing harshly, but he knew what he had to do, in order to possibly save his son. He slowly dialed the number on his phone, pressing it to his ear.

"Hello, Dr. Paige's office." A deeper woman's voice greeted on the phone.

"Hello, this is Noah Stilinski. I was hoping that I could negotiate with Dr. Christensen about my son, Mitchyeslaw. He does work there, right?"

"Yes, he does. Large facility. May I put you on hold while I get him?"

"Sure." Noah agreed, the hold music playing through the speakers for a few moments before the male voice spoke into the speakers.

"Hello, Noah. How is your son doing?" The doctor asked curiously.

"That's what I called about. I was hoping you could give me some more information about your facility." Noah insisted, lowering his voice in order for Stiles not to hear him and panic.

"Absolutely. I work with Dr. Ava Paige and Dr. Janson, as well as our employees, to research the neurological waves of mainly teenagers by the same stimulation in order to hopefully one day permanently cure things like many types of dementia, brain cancer, and even mental illnesses. We supply companies that create electronics and several forms of artificial intelligence with our research to make them less likely to malfunction because of the hard drive. We help teachers develop new ways to educate their students to help them reach their full potential. All three of simply want to change the neurological world for the better."

"I see." Noah took in this information, writing the important notes down on a blank page before asking. "Why mainly teens?"

"Because children aren't in the real world and are learning things all the time. Adults are in the world, and are slow sometimes when it comes to learning. While we have exceptions to the rule in our facility, teens are in that strange phase where they are in the world, but are also fast learners, and since they are so quick on their feet, that's why they are the best for these tests."

"So how much longer do I have to think about this?" Noah questioned, tapping the pen open and closed on the table.

"Well, I'm afraid I need to know now. I'm about to OK some paperwork for a few more teens, but if you want, I am going to be in California all day tomorrow to pick up a few of the teens, so I can bring you the paperwork for Stiles. You can sign it, and I can take him with me."

Noah bit his lip, almost forgetting he was on the phone while he was deep in thought. He just got his son back, and he could lose him for five years with a zero visitor policy, not to mention his son was already mad at him for even considering this option. But it could also help hundreds, maybe even thousands of families from being torn apart like his had been 8 years ago.

"Noah? Are you still there?" The voice breaking his thought process.

"Yeah, I'm still here."

"Have you made your decision yet? I know it must be a hard one to make, especially since what you have been through in the past few months, but I need to know now."

Noah took a deep breath, not knowing if he would regret this or not, as it would change both his and his son's life forever, but he ended up uttering the single word.

"Yes."

 **Hey** **guys** **!** **Hope** **you** **enjoy** **this** **chapter** **!**

 **Also** **,** **if** **you** **have** **any** **ideas** **for** **Void** **Stiles** **Returns** **,** **please** **let** **me** **know** **,** **as** **I** **stumped** **(** **I** **wanna** **do** **something** **with** **Owen** **,** **and** **if** **you** **don't** **know** **who** **he** **is** **,** **read** **the** **book** **!** **XD** **)**

 **I've** **been** **posting** **loads** **of** **stories** **lately** **with** **Christmas** **coming** **,** **and** **with** **Alpha** **Dad** **ending** **soon** **,** **I** **decided** **that** **unless** **I** **have** **more** **Christmas** **stories** **/updates/new stories** **y'all** **want** **to** **request** **for** **Christmas** **(** **it** **has** **to** **be** **a** **one** **shot** **)** **I** **will** **not** **post** **any** **more** **stories** **after** **the** **fourteenth** **that** **are** **not** **stuff** **for** **you** **guys** **or** **for** **Christmas** **.**

 **But** **I** **will** **be** **coming** **in** **strong** **in** **the** **new** **year** **with** **the** **sequel** **to** **Alpha** **Dad** **,** **as** **well** **as** **many** **Teen** **Wolf** **selections** **for** **2018.**


	4. Chapter 4

As soon as Stiles stormed into his room, furious about the fight with his dad still, he pressed his ear to the echoing floors in his bedroom that just so happened to be above the dining room area, and listened to his dad respond quietly to someone on the phone.

"That's what I called about. I was hoping you could give me some more information about your facility."

He swallowed harshly, as tears started to brim in his eyes. He had just gotten back, was finally normal again, and his dad was trying to get rid of him. It made Stiles feel sick to his stomach, but, he knew he couldn't take stuff out of context. So, he kept listening.

"So how much longer do I have to think about this?"

Stiles slightly smiled at that. Maybe if they only had a day left, his dad would decline the offer, they could forget this ever happened, and things could go back to as normal as possible.

The teen practically strained his hearing, trying to hear if his dad had spoken again, but just...silence.

Almost fifteen minutes later, Stiles was gonna give up, push himself off the floor and get some rest, when he heard his father utter the dreaded word.

"Yes."

Stiles swallowed back a sob as he stood up, wiping the tears that had spilled over onto the sleeve of his shirt plaid shirt. He then grabbed his cell phone off his nightstand and texted the top contact he had that was pack, which just so happened to be his girlfriend, Malia. He typed with shaking hands.

Stiles: Malia, have everyone meet up at Derek's in ten minutes.

He pocketed the device, before sliding the window open and carefully using the fire escape to get to the driveway below.

••••••••••••••••••••••

Stiles swallowed as he pulled up in front of Derek's loft, as he took the keys out of the ignition, and gripped the steering wheel, just now deciding on how he was gonna tell everyone that he wouldn't see them for five years at the most.

'God, that's depressing.'

He got out of his jeep, and walked inside of the loft, walking up the wooden stairs to the door, knocking nervously while swallowing his sobs.

The door was opened by Malia, who grabbed him by the shirt, and pulled him into the loft, where Derek, Lydia and Kira had gathered. But Stiles noticed a large absence.

The true alpha himself.

"Where's Scott?" Stiles croaked hoarsely due to his tight throat from crying, wanting to tell him specifically.

"He is working on his make up math test he missed." Kira insisted, before the werecoyote grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him down onto a chair, Stiles tripping over his own feet during the short walk.

"What the hell is going on with you, Stiles? You cryptically texted me at two thirty in the morning, telling me to get everyone to meet you here because you wouldn't be able to tell us tomorrow."

'Time to stop stalling..." He told himself, before looking his close friends in the eyes, but mainly focused on Malia.

"My dad is sending me to a medical institution in Alaska tomorrow with a zero visitor policy." The human swallowed as a tear trickled down his face.

"How long?" Derek questioned with crossed arms, but it wasn't anger. Rather, pure concern filling the werewolf's voice.

"Five years."

"What do they wanna do with you? I thought you were finally okay." Kira expressed curiously.

"They want to figure out why the dementia that killed my mom, which the nogistune faked, disappeared as if it was never there, when it is a terminal diagnosis."

Lydia was the first to start crying, as she practically leapt and hugged Stiles tightly, which made Stiles finally go over the edge as he sobbed onto the strawberry blonde's shoulder, holding her like there was no tomorrow.

Quickly after, the rest of the tiny pack pilled onto Stiles, holding him like they were never gonna see him again, and honestly? Stiles felt in his gut that it may go down that way.

After almost twenty minutes, the pack finally allowed their human member to have some breathing room, which he took as a opportunity to say his individual goodbyes.

"Kira, I'm sorry I didn't get to know you as well as I wanted to, and please stick with Scott. He's gonna need you and your bad assery in the future. Derek, we have been through ups, downs, and a lot of kanima venom. But, please lighten up just a bit, Sourwolf. You're actually enjoyable to be around when you aren't acting like Grumpy Cat."

Stiles swallowed, feeling uncontrollable tears fall down his face as he directed his attention from his good friends, to his girlfriend, and someone who was basically family at this point.

"Lydia, please don't listen to the people who call you crazy, or say you're weird, or say your hair is red when it's clearly strawberry blonde. Just stay strong, for me. Malia, words can't describe how much I love you. I've given you things that I will never get back, and I'm okay with that. Remember me, okay? Don't forget about me, that I'm your anchor. I don't want you to be stuck as a coyote for another five years. But if I don't come back, remember you can be your own anchor."

Malia sniffed, wiping her face on her sleeve, before wrapping her arms around Stiles, whispering in his ear, which made him smile briefly.

"Stop being so sappy."

 _ **Figured you guys might want this update, as it is currently my most popular TW story.**_

 _ **Also, my new story is out! It's the sequel to my story "Alpha Dad" titled Carrying a Chimaera! Please go show it some love!**_


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles walked downstairs quietly the next morning with his pillow tucked under his arm into the dining room where his dad was eating, and sighed as he spoke.

"Dad? I hate what you're doing, but I love you." He walked over to him, wrapping his arms around him, and letting the tears spill. "I'm gonna miss you so much; please don't make me go."

He felt his dad wrap his arms around his back and start stroking his spiked hair while hearing him choke up.

"I'm gonna miss you too, Mieczyslaw. But this is gonna help people like your mom get a second chance. Okay?"

Stiles nodded, breaking out of the hug and wiping his eyes.

"I'm not leaving willingly till Scott gets here."

Stiles received a nod in response, as he managed to eat a small breakfast which was just a banana before Janson showed up with the papers. Something about him ticked the teen off, whether that be his rat face or the fact he was ruining his life with every passing second. After ten minutes, the final paper was signed and Janson turned to him, looking him in the eyes.

"Time to go, Mieczyslaw."

"Not until my friend gets here." Stiles stomped his foot and crossed his arms, almost dropping his pillow which the security that was with Janson took to the shuttle bus shortly after. His father was about to comment on his behavior, but lo and behold, Rat Man came to his rescue by looking at his watch.

"We can allow five more minutes, but after that we have to leave."

Stiles nodded, quickly sending a text to Scott, telling him that he was gonna be forced to leave in five minutes, and that his father would most likely let him off with a ticket, but if he didn't make it in time, that he wished him the best, sorry he had been such a bad friend before, and to just try and be happy some of the time. Five minutes passed however, and there wasn't a trace of the green motorcycle or the True Alpha.

"Let's go." Janson sighed, and motioned for him to follow.

However, Stiles was stubborn as a mule, and would fight no matter what. "Not until he gets here! Dad, do something!" He begged, praying he would come through.

"Hang on, he needs to say goodbye his best friend. Please." The sheriff begged, but it was no use, as Janson had a perfectly legal and reasonable reason.

"I have six other kids I have to pick up. We can't waste time cause someone is late."

Stiles was stubborn, and always had been. But he was also smart, and he knew when he was gonna lose a fight. It was inevitable he would be able to stall Rat Man much longer, so instead, he hugged his dad again, whimpering like a child.

"Dad... you're gonna be all alone?" He looked into his eyes, and just like his, they were filled with tears and he watched his father run a hand through his hair.

"I'll be fine, kiddo. I promise." He insisted, squeezing him as tight as possible.

"I love you." Stiles chocked out as the hug was broken off. "Goodbye."

"Time to go." Janson insisted, and instead of fighting, or stalling, he just walked out the door that was shut behind him and to the shuttle bus, spouting over and over that he hated the older man and that he ruined his life, but he wasn't taking any of it.

"Be quiet, brat."

Stiles started walking up the steps of the bus, when he heard a motorcycle revving faster then he had heard in a long time. He peeked his head out the door to see his best friend speeding towards them.

"SCOTT!" He screamed to signal him, jumping off the three steps to get to him, but received a smack to the face and a tight grip on his arm from Janson, who yelled.

"I said be quiet!"

Stiles wasn't even fazed as he started to pull away from the older man's grip, but his security moved in front of him to keep him from escaping, which only made him struggle more as he tried to plead with the two large men in front of him, watching Scott ditch the bike and just bolt towards them.

"Just let me say goodbye. He's like my brother! Please!" He pleaded as Scott started to push past the security guards.

"I really don't wanna do this, Mieczyslaw." Janson sighed, bringing a syringe with what was most likely a sedative in it. "So get in the shuttle, and I won't have to."

Stiles continued to struggle and try to break free from the hold, which resulted in Janson using the sedative and one of the guards carrying him inside, with the other guard protecting Janson.

"Get the hell away from him!" Scott snarled, not even worried about revealing himself in order to save his friends.

"Nice to meet you too, Scott." Janson smirked as he walked in, closing the door to it before it started to drive away from the Stilinski residence.

Scott started to run as fast as possible to catch up with the shuttle, but even though he was a werewolf, he still got tired, and eventually he collapsed to the ground, watching the shuttle with his best friend disappear around the corner, howling in frustration and grief.

Stiles was gone.


	6. Chapter 6 (VERY IMPORTANT NOTE)

Stiles regained conciseness, noticing he was in the back of the shuttle bus and was slightly confused for a moment, but then everything flooded back, which had him squeeze his pillow with one arm while nibbling on the side of his thumb on his other hand, one of his many nervous habits he picked up over the years.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by someone tapping his shoulder, and when he looked over, he saw a girl around his age with dark brown hair, eyes to match and super pale skin.

"Can I sit with you?" She asked, and Stiles looked up at her.

"What? Oh, ye-yeah." He stuttered, scooting towards the window. "I-I'm Stiles. Is there a reason you wanted to sit with me?"

"Deedee." She grinned at him before providing her explanation. "Cause you're the first sad person I've seen today. Everyone else is happy they are leaving."

Stiles sighed, not knowing how much he wanted to confide in this random girl, but his gut wasn't acting up like it did with Matt, Chris, even himself. So, he explained. "I don't wanna leave my friends, my girlfriend, my home, my Dad..." Stiles trailed off, going back to nibbling on the side of his thumb while watching her smile sadly.

"Must be nice to have so much support...I've been in orphanages since I was four. Bounced through foster homes, but never had any friends or family."

"I'm sorry... I lost my Mom when I was nine. It was frontaltemprol dementia."

"It's fine. I'm used to it. I don't even remember my parents that much. That must really suck to remember her though." She sighed, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, which he normally would've shrugged off, but this felt comforting. Nice.

"It hurts, a lot." He stopped to clear his throat before asking. "Do you know anyone else here?"

"I was the first one they picked up. So I know a bit."

Stiles nodded, before asking. "What do you do for schooling at this facility, I wonder?" He sighed, trying to force his tears to stay inside, but it failed as they trailed down his cheeks.

"Hey, this is good, alright? We're gonna help people everywhere. W.C.K.D is good." She insisted, rubbing his shoulder.

"I just miss everyone so much... I was diagnosed with the same illness that killed my mother, which is a terminal diagnosis and the only kind of dementia that can hit teens. After a stay in a mental facility and several battles of the mind, I was taken to the ER due to a rising fever and being unconscious. The dementia was gone. They think I hold the cure for it, and that's why I was recruited.

"It's gonna work out, Stiles. They are here to help us." She insisted, still rubbing his shoulder, and it was still comforting to him.

"How can you have so much hope?" Stiles asked, confused as how she could still be promising things when her life seemed like one big lie.

"It's all I have left. Hope."

He was about to respond to her, before Janson's voice filled the shuttle from the loudspeake

"If I could have your attention, please! We have one final stop before making the trip to Alaska via private helicopters. If you have problems with air travel, we will also have a boat for those who can't fly. When we get there, you will not speak to one another until you have been situated as we are gonna try to assess everyone. Girls and boys will be separated into different rooms of eight. If you have any questions, ask me immediately."

Immediately questions started to ring out from the teens towards Janson.

"How long will it take to get situated?"

"Can boy and girl siblings live together?"

"re there any visitation days or ways to communicate in any way with our friends and or families?"

"Situating all of you will take up to two days at the most. No, they cannot, as your brothers or sisters will have other boys or girls in their rooms, and we don't want to leave anything to the imagination. We have a five year policy where you are free to leave after five years or sooner, depending on when we finish with you. But until you are free to leave, no contact with anyone outside of the facility."

This didn't sit well with the teens, more because of the fact that they would be separated from their siblings, all they had left, or unable to talk with their new friends for who knew how long, and they started to yell over each other and get up in protest. Janson was not having that as he yelled through the loudspeaker.

"Enough! Get back in the seats now!" Everyone did as they were told while he continued. "This is for your own good and the good of the world!"

Stiles, however, was sick of the fear filling the bus, and he stood up to fight with Janson, receiving weird looks from DeeDee.

"If it's for our own good why can't we see our loved ones? Why can't siblings, who only have each other, stay in a place of their own instead of in the boy's section and girl's section? Why separate new friends for two days?"

Janson, obviously had a answer. A answer that didn't sit well with Stiles.

"Because any contact from people in your life could disrupt the tests, we don't have the room for siblings to stick together. We barley have enough for all of you. Because we have to make sure you're not gonna die on us, or rebel." He paused briefly to shoot a glare at a seething Stiles before smiling. "Any more questions?"

"I hate you. I WILL break us out of here." Stiles swore, still standing up, and it had Janson standing up as well.

"If I need to take drastic measures again to prove my authority, Mieczyslaw, you bet your ass I will."

"How about I DON'T bet my ass and just kick yours instead?" He demanded, gripping onto the seat, but Janson still was taking the civil approach... If you could call it civil.

"Mieczyslaw, this is for your own good. Everyone here agreed to come, and you don't wanna disappoint your father, do you? Think about your poor mother..."

"THAT'S IT! I'M GONNA KILL YOU!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, storming towards him, but was grabbed by the security, fuming as he tried to escape and getting flashbacks of when Brunski used Hadol on him in Eichan House.

"Stiles, no need for violence." He mockingly used his nickname while uncapping a sedative. "Just relax." He quickly injected the sedative into his arm, which had him passing out into the security guards arms. "Take him back to his seat." Janson told them before getting back on the loudspeaker while Stiles was dumped back beside DeeDee in the back of the shuttle. "Let him be the example for all of you! Do as you are instructed, and we'll get along just fine."

"Yes, sir." The other kids muttered, not wanting to get in trouble with Janson, who had made his authority known.

 _ **Sorry it has been so long, but my beta reader quit on me, so I need a new one. If you are interested in reading and editing this story, please contact me via here or Wattpad and I'll get back to you ASAP.**_

 _ **Thanks for reading!**_


	7. Chapter 7

**It's back!**

 **Thanks to Ava** **Simbelmyne for being my new beta for this story, so maybe this will have more regular updates :D**

 **And now, on with the story!**

Stiles' POV.

After I had woken up and had been in a plane for hours, I was led by two security guards, (who were saying things about tests, procedures, and frankly just freaking me out more and more), into the office of a large building.

We entered and the first thing I saw was the straight black chair in front of the desk, revealing an older blonde woman. She motioned the guards away before standing up and smiling, still it sent a slight chill up my spine, against the intention of calming me down.

"Hello, Stiles." She greeted me, her voice sickly sweet, making my skin crawl.

"Who are you?" I asked, not letting my guard down.

She answered willingly, "I'm Dr. Ava Paige, the head of W.C.K.D; similar to a human disease and neurological developmental research facility."

"What are these tests I heard about?"

"They are a series of physical exams along with a MRI, PET and CT scan." She stopped to go back around to her desk and grab a chart before signaling me to follow her down the hall. I did, not wanting to run into more trouble with Janson.

"Do you know why you are here, Stiles?" She paused while I shook my head slowly, "because you had a terminal condition, and it went away without any treatment. You hold the cure to frontal-temporal dementia, and possibly other forms of dementia. If you don't do it for us, do it for-"

I cut her off, not wanting nor needing to think about her right now with my rising anxiety and suspicions about this place. "You finish that with " your mother" and I'll react. Badly."

"Do it for the thousands, possibly millions of lives you could save." She finished, and despite my gut feeling, I figured I would have to lay low before acting on it and seeing if it even held a shred of truth.

So, I replied with. "Fine. One rule though, you will be honest and thorough with me, walking me through everything that will happen, before it happens."

"I will personally make sure of it. We are not here to hurt, mock or torment you, Stiles. We just want to help better the world."

"Not here to torment me?" That comes out with disbelief as my thoughts seethed, the past day replaying in my mind and I demanded, "What, then, would you call the way Janson treated me and why can't we have friends and family visit?"

Ava stopped mid-stride, clearly distressed and confused, "What are you talking about? What did Janson do to you?"

Slightly surprised by her reaction I told her, " He mocked me, made an example out of me, sedated me twice and denied me permission to tell my best friend goodbye." I listed off, seeing her face fall before adding. "And why can't we have visitors? They'll come here, it's not like we'll leave!"

"I'll talk to Janson later on, and explain that he has no right to use sedatives on people unless someone is in grave danger... As for the visitors, it's happened many times before where a teenager talks to their friend, or a parent, or sees them in person, and it can upset your brain waves that we need to study. Not to mention, when that friend or parent has to leave, or hang up, the patient gets very upset. Starts acting out, trying to escape into the freezing Alaskan weather, or even try to kill themselves. We are protecting you with the protocols we have had to use on everyone over the years. Do you understand, Stiles?"

"Honestly?" I asked about Janson, before shaking my head when she explained that. "I'm not gonna hurt myself or escape. I promise."

"I promise I will talk to him." She insisted before sighing. "You can't predict that, and even if that were true, we can't bend the rules for one person. Otherwise, people will be upset because you are getting special treatment."

I nodded, feeling slight melancholy as well as anger swelling inside of me, replacing my gut feeling. "Can we just get this over with?"

"After your physical and tests, I'll have a guard show you to your room. The door will be locked, as a precaution. You will have everything you need in there. Bed, toilet, food. A journal and pen will also be supplied for you."

"What for?"

"For anything you want. Drawing, writing, scribbling. A creative outlet in the case of boredom."

"This won't turn into therapy arts and crafts, will it?" I asked, seeing her slightly confused face, which led me to explain further. "Like force us to go to therapy and show the therapist? I've been in therapy before and I am NOT going back." I finished, adding emphasis on the word "not".

"No, there are no forced therapy sessions unless they have severe mental illness. You're here because of your incredible case of frontal-temporal dementia. Not because of mental illness. Plus, you seem to have your ADHD under control. In any case, if you do want to see a professional for your social anxiety, we can allow that." I shook my head rapidly just as a middle aged black woman came in.

"Alright, I won't force you into it." She finished before gesturing to the woman, "This is Doctor Crawford. She is the lead doctor here and will be performing the tests and physical."

"You must be Mieczyslaw." She smiled, extending her hand for me to shake, which I did before correcting her.

"It's Stiles."

"Well, that's quite the typo, huh?" She joked, trying to ease the mood, but instead it just made my nervousness rise yet again and I replied monotone,

"It's a family nickname."

She nodded, losing the sense of humor before looking down at the chart Paige had handed her. "Go ahead and step on the scale. Dr. Paige has told me to let you know what I'm doing before I do it, is that correct?"

"I'm going to go speak with Janson. I will see you later, Stiles." Paige told me as I nodded before answering Crawford's question while she left.

"That is correct, but can we just do this as quick as possible? I just really want to be left alone."

"I'll go as fast as possible." She smiled reassuringly, writing down a few things before motioning over to the table. "Sit down, Stiles."

I sat down, looking down at my hands which were littered with marks where I had bit my fingers unintentionally. I sighed, wondering what everyone was doing right now. I realized I didn't even know what time it was.

"Everything alright, Stiles?" Crawford asked softly, making me snap out of my thoughts.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

"Alright... You'll be seventeen soon, is that correct?"

I nodded as she did the basic examination before grabbing some supplies from one of the cabinets.

"I'm going to do a quick blood test." I had to swallow when I looked down at the needle. She must've seen it as she smiled softly, "Hey, I don't like needles either. I'll be fast." I nodded, looking down at the needle as she drew it from my veins before smiling at me.

"Alright. I'm going to take this to the lab for testing. Stay here, and I'll be right back."

She disappeared behind the door and I looked back down at my hands, sighing as I said to myself how much I wanted to be home. I must've been too invested in my self-pity because after what only seemed like a couple minutes I felt a hand on my back and someone asking, "Stiles? What's wrong?"

"N-nothing." I insisted, shaking the homesick thoughts from my head, but I could tell She didn't believe me by the look She gave me.

None the less, she handed me a pair of sweat pants and a grey T-shirt, which I quickly changed into before she led me upstairs to have the tests done.

•••••••••••••••••••••

Ava's POV.

I watched as Janson continued to program the microchip to be used to wipe Stiles of his memories which was clearly infuriating him.

"So why aren't we just using the swipe on the brat again?" the growl escaped his twisted face.

"Do not call him a brat, Janson. We can't risk losing him if it goes wrong. It took us 7 years to find him and the technology is still in the testing stages. But you have to finish tonight so the procedure can take place first thing in the morning."

He nodded, looking back down at his work before going back to his name for Stiles and asked, " What else is there to call him? "

"Mieczyslaw? Stiles? Choose, cause we aren't supposed to scare him, Janson." I insisted but he demanded further,

"That kid needs to learn to respect others."

"Not by being harassed."

••••••••••••

Stiles' POV.

I was being led down the hall of what I assumed was the medical wing, but what confused me was the thousands of pieces of technology that were aligning the walls, or attached to sleeping patients that I could see through the very thin curtains in front of the rooms.

I guessed they had more technology then the small hospital in Beacon Hills due to being a large research facility in Alaska, but I figured I would've seen at least some of this on Google images.

Then we reached the room, which gave me a very eerie vibe and caused my pounding gut feeling that something was off to resurface.

"Lay down, Stiles." The doctor from yesterday insisted, mentioning to a operating table in the middle of the room, which caused me to raise a eyebrow before looking around the room.

First off, Janson was there, which was confusing, but not a hundred percent alarming. Then I heard the door lock, which was really strange, but then I saw something that almost made me vomit in my mouth.

Oh the table of medical supplies was a drill. They were gonna make me a temptation victim.

I started backing towards the door, wanting to see if I could unlock it if I rammed into it hard enough, but then I felt two strong, aggressive hands grab onto my biceps, before starting to drag me towards the operating table.

I started fighting against their grips (now realizing they were the guards) and I felt large leather straps pulled across my ankles, wrists and torso.

I panted from fighting while glaring at Janson, who was grinning as I was forced down on the table.

"What are you gonna do?...drill a hole in my head?...that'll kill me, you know...and then your plan will be ruined."

I felt Janson put a gloved hand on the left side of my jaw, pushing my head to the right with two fingers, before speaking in a way that I knew that he had a smirk on his face.

"We're more experienced then Eichan House when it comes to temptation, and know just how far to go, but if Crawford slips and we lose you, it won't be the biggest loss."

Then I heard the drill start whirring, which caused me to thrash as much as I could as I begged while I felt Janson hold my head down and the drill started to get closer.

"Wait, w-wait. Don't do this, I-I'm all my dad has left. Please."

"Your Dad can live without you, and so can everyone else." Janson told me as I felt slight pressure on my head and the last thing I heard was Janson insisting. "You were worthless as Stiles anyway."

Then I felt the worse pain I had ever felt in my life, which made my eyes water as I screamed, before falling into darkness.

••••••••••••••••••••

Crawford's POV.

I sat beside the bed where the patient had been unconscious for the past twenty four hours, which was deeply concerning to me.

However, shortly after I sat down, I saw the patient's eyes fluttering open as he asked in a quiet, hoarse voice.

"W-what's going on?...w-why can't I-I remember anything?"

I gently put my hands on his shoulders so he didn't hurt himself by sitting up, before answering his question.

"Your name is Thomas. You got hurt pretty badly, but you are safe now. Your memories should come back in a couple days."

"H-how long do I h-have to stay in the h-hospital? W-where's my f-family?"

"We don't know yet. We cannot find your full name anywhere. Just Thomas written on your shirt tag when you were found. Go back to sleep, alright? You'll heal faster that way."

"O-okay..." Thomas told me before closing his eyes and the heart monitor went back to a sleeping rate.

I adjusted the bandages on his head, before closing the curtain that cut off his section from everyone else before getting back to work, praying that Doctor Paige knew what she was doing.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey guys! I hope you enjoy this chapter, but first, I have three things to say.**

 **1: I know I originally said that this was book based, but now I've decided to infuse both the books and movies into it.**

 **2: there are no more time skips in this story (probably). Basically the time between this and the last chapter was the books/movies, and since I can't do either of those justice, I decided to let you fill in the blank with both.**

 **3: Wattpad is currently down as I post this, so I will be updating this later today.**

 **Once again, thanks again to my fantastic beta reader, Ava Simbelmyne, for doing this six hours before leaving for a week.**

 **And now, on with the story!**

One year later-

Malia pushed a branch out of her way, doing her usual rounds of the woods that Scott had assigned her to once Stiles had left or rather, taken. Even though she would possibly never see him again, she wanted to do her part.

And then she caught a familiar scent near a patch of bush.

"That scent! Could it... it can't be. Stiles?" She realized, and started running toward the smell of a low, constant anxiety and a slight undertone of dog while calling out to him. "Stiles?! Are you out here?!"

She saw him. He was crouched down on the hill, looking almost completely different then how she saw him last winter. His clothes were dirty and tattered, he had the start of a beard from his cheeks down his chin, and he was shivering.

Fearing the worst, she gently called out his name.

"Stiles?"

His dark brown eyes filled with fear when they met hers, causing him to jump backwards. Panicked she held her hands in front of him, trying to calm him down.

"Hey, shh. It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you."

He scooted backwards on his hands, clearly terrified of her as he stuttered through his shivers.

"Wh-who are you?"

Malia sighed, realizing she must have been mistaken in thinking this was her boyfriend and anchor. Due to the fact he looked different and that he didn't remember her she filed her thoughts away and introduced herself politely.

"My name is Malia Tate. I'm from the town outside of the woods. What's your name?"

"Thomas. My name is Thomas."

"Can you tell me what happened to you, Thomas?"

"Everything is still fuzzy." He lied, not wanting her to turn him in, before moving to hug his knees close to him, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

She noticed that he was uncomfortable and smiled softly, asking if he needed help.

"Is there a good place to stay around here?" the response was whispered.

"There's a hotel a couple miles from here. I'll take you… if you want." Malia offered before standing up. Thomas went to follow but almost fell backwards into a tree holding his side forcefully as if in pain. Quickly stepping in, Malia changed courses, "Tell you what. You sit here, I'll go get some help, alright?"

"Sure…" His attempted decline died in his throat, as she patted his knee and went towards town.

Adrenaline pumping and filled with fear that the authorities in this town would turn him in to W.C.K.D, he got up with a tingling numbness covering his body and ran as fast as possible in the opposite direction. With what was probably only a few minutes of running the ground under him gave out into an unexpected crevice. The adrenaline wore of and he saw black.

A few moments later saw him sitting up on his elbows, the feeling of massive pain waves flowed through his left leg and side. He looked at past his knee and almost vomited. A twisted and mangled left foot was sprawled and bleeding.

As anyone in that situation would, Thomas looked up and cursed toward the sky.

"Shit"

··························

Malia couldn't believe it. Part of her was still hopeful Stiles was in there, but she had to let the police know before she got her hopes up too high. Making the quick journey to the sheriff station she went where Noah was packing the squad car for the end of his shift. He glanced at her with a smile,

"Hey, Malia. What can I do for you?"

Not wanting to get his hopes up as well she kept the information discreet.

"There's a man lost in the woods really close to town. He's hurt, alone, and looks like he hasn't taken care of himself in a while. His name is Thomas…I couldn't get a last name."

Noah nodded, shrugging back on his officer coat before putting his hand on my shoulder gently.

"Parrish and I will take care of it. Thanks for telling us." He glanced at his watch and his eyes widened, "You should probably go home now and get some sleep before your father finds out."

She nodded, and left the station, praying that it was indeed her boyfriend who she encountered in the woods. Though, if it was, why did he think his name was Thomas?...

···················

Noah and Jordan arrived to the scene, with Noah in the patrol car and Parrish in the Special Service Vehicle before starting to look for the man Malia had told them about with their flashlights.

After looking around the area fully, the sheriff and deputy regrouped beside the patrol car and SUV.

"I don't see anyone. What about you?" Noah asked, clicking off his flashlight, not really wanting to return home to his lonely and empty house.

"No, but-" Parrish started with his glance focused on the pitch-black woods when he was cut off by a scratched and tormented yell.

"SOMEBODY HELP ME!"

Noah swallowed the lump in his throat when the voice hit his ears. He had heard the voice, sadly, several times, when his son experienced night terrors after his mother died and during the beginning of the possession. He may have just been imagining it since his deputy had no reaction that indicated his son in Alaska had come back to him.

"One of the caves in the ground, most likely. He probably fell in." Parrish realized.

The sheriff and deputy shined the lights on the ground and walked slightly away from the cars before looking inside and indeed seeing the young man.

"Hold on! We're gonna get you out!" Jordan yelled as Noah went to get the SUV and immediately started setting up the pulley system in the back of it to lower Jordan in while the deputy started attaching himself to the harness.

Once the rope was connected to Jordan, the sheriff lowered him inside of the cave. He waited ten minutes before there was a tug on the rope, in which he pulled him back up and saw the man in his arms. While he matched the description Malia had given them, he hoped his mind wasn't playing tricks on him to make him think he was seeing his son.

Parrish set the man on the ground, so he could quickly get out of the pulley system, but the young male clearly was scared of them and attempting to run, Thomas fell.

"Hey, hey, calm down. We're not going to hurt you. I just have to make sure you are stable enough so we can get you to the hospital, alright?" Jordan asked, and the male nodded in agreement with his back and shoulders visibly becoming less tense. "Thank you. You don't have to look like you're squeamish."

"What's your name, young man?" Noah questioned, kneeling to the ground to make eye contact with him while his deputy was stabilizing his leg.

"Thomas."

"Where are you from, Thomas?" Noah asked, figuring that if this wasn't his son, he should call the police where he was from and see if they were looking for him.

He responded with an "I don't know", and the sheriff figured it was some form of amnesia. "What do you remember?"

"I remember helping an organization called W.C.K.D at one point. I'm no longer associated with them."

Noah was now shocked. Not only did this man look like his son, from looks to his own voice, but he worked with W.C.K.D. The same research center where his kid was at this very moment, unless this man sitting in front of him was indeed his seventeen year old son.

"W.C.K.D.'s in Alaska. Why did you come to California?"

The male bit his lip, probably thinking of the right way to put things, but ended up just telling the sheriff that he was drawn there by a feeling something was waiting for him in California. Before Noah could ask more questions, Parrish had finished securing his leg

"Are you hurt anywhere else that can't wait for a hospital, Thomas?"

"My right side." The young man hissed as Jordan lifted up his shirt, and indeed saw a puncture wounds about the size of a small marble.

He quickly cleaned and dressed the wound before draping a blanket over his shoulders. It was in the low fifties outside and Thomas was in tattered jeans and a blue short-sleeve shirt.

"Okay. I'm going to help you to the SUV and drive you to the hospital, alright?"

Parrish helped him to his feet, encouraging him not to walk on his left leg while opening the SUV door for him. They helped him get settled before handing him the blanket and closing the door.

Then, with Noah in the patrol car and Jordan with Thomas in the SUV, they both drove to the hospital. The sheriff unable to shake the feeling that his son was in that SUV with his deputy.

··············

They arrived at the hospital fairly fast, and luckily, Parrish had called the hospital in advance, so as soon as they pulled up they were able to get him on a stretcher.

Melissa arrived quickly to see what was going on and realized the same features Noah had. The hair, eyes, and voice were all reminiscent of Stiles, except the name... She turned to one of the nurses, handing her the stretcher before giving orders,

"Start working on his injuries, I'll be there in a second." The nurse nodded and left with the stretcher while Melissa turned to the sheriff and demanded. "What's going on? Is that Stiles? Why is he here?"

"Malia found him in the woods while patrolling and alerted Parrish and I. If he is Stiles, why can't he remember us and why does he think his name is Thomas?" Noah asked, knowing that it HAD to be his son. There were way too many coincidences for it not to be.

"I'm assuming some sort of amnesia or being forced to go by a different name and backstory." Melissa told him as she started to go back where he was, but Noah gently grabbed her arm and pleaded.

"Please fix him, Melissa. I need my son back."

Melissa nodded, turning to hug him, before disappearing behind the large push doors. Now, the most dreaded part of being in the emergency room.

Waiting.

···················

Three hours later, the time was turning toward two in the morning, and Noah was dozing off in the chair when Melissa came back. No emotions were visible on her face, a good or bad sign. He stood up and asked about Thomas' condition.

"In addition to his leg being broken, as you saw, his right side was pierced by a sharp object and he is suffering from a moderate case of hypothermia. We did a DNA test...it is Stiles."

Noah held in his joy at the news, wanting to get to the bottom of why he was going by "Thomas".

"What about his memories? Why can't he remember any of us?"

"His memories are being controlled by a chip near his brain. It was implanted a little over a year ago."

"If it's taken out, will he go back to normal?"

"If it's taken out, he will regain his memories, yes. But it's a complicated surgery and it's best to wait till he's a hundred percent healthy." Noah sighed, but agreed. While he didn't want something to go wrong with his son, he hadn't seen him in over a year.

He was broken out of his thoughts by Melissa offering to let him see Stiles for a few minutes before he had to go so he didn't get in trouble with the hospital.

He agreed, and Melissa led him down the hall into one of the rooms, where Stiles was settling down for the night, but jumped when his landed on him, clearly terrified, but sounded like he was trying to keep his composure.? Thomas started when he turned around to see the officer in the doorway,

"I-is there a problem, officer?"

"I just wanted to get to know you." Noah insisted, trying to keep himself together when he saw that terrified look on his son's face.

However, the fear quickly mixed in with wariness when he asked why he wanted to know him better.

"We just want to help as best we can." Noah insisted, but Thomas clamped up after that insisting that he would like to get some sleep.

Respecting his wishes, Noah left the hospital and drove home to his empty and lonely house, hoping and praying that Melissa could figure out what was wrong with his son.

·······················

The teen walked into the Beacon Hills hospital that morning, brushing his lighter dirty blond hair out of his eyes before going to the reception desk,

"Good morning, ma'am. I'm here to see Thomas."

"Last name?" She asked. Unsure of it, he responded by saying his name was Thomas.

Luckily, she understood what he meant and smiled gently at him.

"I'll take you to him. What's your name?"

"Newt."

The woman nodded and lead him down the hall to one of the rooms and opened the door to see Thomas scrolling the TV channels. She spoke to get his attention,

"Thomas? There's someone named Newt here to see you."

"How you doing, Tommy?" He smiled, going over to him and giving him a tight hug, barely noticing the woman leaving the room.

He felt Thomas' shaky arms squeeze him just as tightly for a full minute when they finally let go and Newt settled into the armchair beside the bed while his shocked friend gaped,

"How are you alive? I...I watched you die."

"Minho. He brought me back to The Safe Haven." Newt looked down, stuffing his shoe on the ground. "He saw how upset you had been after, um...the fight and had the medics do whatever they could to bring me back."

"Did you want it to happen? Did you want me to kill you?"

"Yeah. I did. I didn't want to turn into one of those, and forget all of you. Especially you." After explaining this, Newt decided he had to tell Thomas why he was here."Thomas, Janson is still out there. Vince saw him while administrating the cure to the infected, and he tried to shoot him down, but he escaped. They sent me after you to make sure he hadn't found you. Minho, Brenda, Jorge...all of them. They thought you would be held captive or dead at this point."

Thomas swallowed harshly, trying to keep his composure since one of the last things he did to save Teresa ended up a failure. He decided to divert the subject a little by asking.

"How are they?"

Newt was pretty relieved to get off the topic of the man who had terrorized all of them, but mainly onto Thomas. Although now he had to talk about Brenda.

"Minho is doing pretty well. He's built mansions at the Safe Haven at this point. Jorge has been helping Vince with the cure, and Brenda..." He trailed off, not knowing how to tell Thomas about the discovery made shortly after he left.

"Is she okay?" Thomas panicked, not wanting to lose yet another person he cared deeply for.

"She's missing you a lot, Thomas...and the med jacks are ninety nine percent sure she's...pregnant."

Thomas shook his head, trying to sink back into his pillow. Wanting to insist that Newt was lying. Newt swore at himself for telling him about that though it only emphasized his point,

"You have to come back, Thomas."

"Everyone seems to know me here, Newt. Why don't we move you guys here?"

"It's not safe. You don't know a thing about these people… and why don't they have the flare virus?" Newt demanded. After all, if he was going to be so insistent, he better have a damn good reason for it.

"I don't know, but I feel connected to them and to this place. I just can't place it yet, soon." Thomas insisted, running his hand through his unkempt hair.

"Maybe something bad happened to you here, Tommy. We don't know why you are drawn here, it may not be good."

"Maybe. Though, maybe, and if, this place involves my past before the maze, I need to look into it." Thomas argued. He had a pretty solid point, so I sighed and nodded, before asking softly,

"So, are you going to come back?"

"After I figure this out."

"And you want me to stick around?" Newt asked his friend, and when he nodded, he smiled, tisking his tongue slightly with a grin on his face.

"You're lucky I like you, Tommy." He relaxed a bit in the armchair before asking him.

"What happened to you? I mean, you ARE in the hospital, not to mention you haven't shaved in a decade or something."

"Rude." Thomas retorted and stuck out his tongue before giving an explanation. "There's something about this place. Call me crazy but I think I must have lived here before."

"Do you know how long you're going to stay?" Newt asked, brushing his hair from his eyes as Thomas responded with 'no'. He sighed and reached over to clap him on the shoulder.

"Well, get some rest, buddy. I'm not leaving till you do."


End file.
